The Storm Inside
by StarshotFourteen
Summary: Elsa's years behind locked doors. Written for FAGE007 as a gift for BeMyHeroSeverus.
1. Header

**FAGE 007**

**Title: **The Storm Inside

**Written for: **BeMyHeroSeverus

**Written By: **StarshotFourteen

**Rating:** K

**Summary/Prompt used: **"Do you wanna build a snowman?"

If you would like to see all the stories that are a part of this exchange visit the facebook group: **Fanficaholics Anon: Where Obsession Never Sleeps**, or add the C2 to get all the stories direct to your inbox **www 'dot' fanfiction 'dot' net / community /FAGE-007/93625/**

Now before the story starts, I would like to thank some people.  
>First of all, everyone involved with FAGE, which is one of the coolest things I've ever encountered, and I'm so glad to have been a part of it.<br>Second I want to thank my friends** Freddie**, **Cass** and** Siri**, for having the patience to go over my story and deal with all my questions - and for the amazing feedback I received from them.  
>I would also like to thank my friend <strong>Penny<strong> for making me a glorious banner, managing to grasp exactly what I meant, and not getting fed up of all the slight alterations I had her make.  
>Last but not least I thank my recipient, <strong>BeMyHeroSeverus<strong>, who has supplied some wonderful inspiration and without whom this story obviously would not have been written. I hope I've done you justice, Gracie.


	2. Conceal

**Elsa 8, Anna 5**

It's been seventy days since mama and papa have locked me in here - for my own safety, they say, but I think (_I know_) it's more for hers. I've told them it was an accident, that she was going too fast and I was only trying to save her, but it's no use. I'm stuck, and I don't know for how long. It was only supposed to be for a little while, just until I learned to control my powers, at least that's what I thought… But now I'm not so sure. Because no matter what I try, it seems I'll never get this under control. They say it's because I get too excited, or angry, or scared, and so I try not to be any of those things, but that doesn't help. Every time I feel the slightest hint of something the cold spreads from my fingers and I just _freeze_ things without even trying. I think that's why papa brought the gloves. They're soft and pretty, and they fit me perfectly, and I really do think they're going to help. All I have to do is learn to conceal the powers and try not to feel much of anything. Sounds easier than it is, especially when all I do in here is think about everything I'm not allowed to do anymore.

I miss going outside, even on the rainy days, and I miss the smell of the kitchens around dinner time, and the sight and sound of other people… It's just not the same in here, with just the three small meals a day and the same view whenever I look outside. I even miss my lessons, which used to bore me to tears before. Most of all I miss Anna. I can live without the other stuff, I'm actually getting used to it. But waking up every morning and realizing I'm not in our room anymore is the worst part. Actually, that's not the worst part, because right before that realization I always have that nice fuzzy feeling that comes when you've just woken up and you think everything is wonderful and okay, while really it's not. It's the afternoons that are most terrible, because that's when Anna comes.

Every day I hear her footsteps bouncing down the soft carpet in the hall, halting in front of my door, and then comes the knock. It's our special secret knock, you see, the one we used in our play time even though we hardly needed one – no other kids ever played with us, and the adults wouldn't be knocking anyway. But we used it all the same, and so she still does now, every day without fail. I don't think she understands, which makes sense if those rock things really did erase (or should I say alter?) her memory, but I simply can't open the door. Not just because it's locked, but because she's safer when I'm not around. To make it easier on the both of us, I've been ignoring her, trying not to notice she's there, hoping she'll give up. And still she shows up like nothing ever happened, which for her of course is true, asking me if I want to play, why I won't talk to her anymore, and I can't answer her, because she can never know the truth. At this point I've realized ignoring her isn't going to work, so I've started replying. _Go away Anna,_ I tell her every day, and I can almost hear the disappointment creep onto her face in the pause before she walks away. It's harsh, but with someone like Anna I don't think anything else is going to work.

I'll tell you what though. Every time she leaves, even though I'm not supposed to, I take off my gloves for a little bit and make it snow. It dries up fast enough that papa and mama won't find out, and even though I can't come out and play with my sister like I used to, it makes me feel better somehow. It is the small way in which I try to show if not to Anna, then to myself, that we are still sisters, and some day soon we will play together again.


	3. Don't Feel

**Elsa 12, Anna 9**

More than four years have passed, and I'm still in here. Nothing has changed, except the view, and that was only because one of the stables burned down last summer. My room is still the same, and so is the door, firmly locked except when I get my meals and on those rare moments papa and mama come by. They're always so busy now, and though they won't admit it, I don't think they like coming to see me anymore. Not after what happened to the kitchen girl, at least. _Inga, her name was Inga! _I remind myself, refusing to forget the very real person I've hurt. _It was an accident!_ I told my parents, just like I told them when they first locked me in here, but it didn't matter. Now I have two things to feel guilty about, even though Anna seems to be doing fine. She still knocks, though not every day, but I've given up responding. I can hear her sometimes, running around, chattering to what I can only assume are imaginary friends. She's such a happy child, and I feel terrible for being the one thing that always brings her down. From time to time, along with the knocking, she tells me about her day; things she's seen, new games she's invented. It's hard to keep quiet then, not to ask questions or tell her how proud I am of all the different ways in which she copes, and by the time she leaves, the disappointment clear in her voice, I feel even worse.

It might be a coincidence, but the days she comes by are usually when my parents do as well. I imagine them sitting at dinner, her face (what does it even look like now? Has she changed a lot, or just grown taller like me?) when she tells them I've let her down once again, the concern they feel for her, and maybe a surge of guilt that drives them to visit me after all. Unfortunately, no matter how controlled I am on the lonely days, Anna-days (as I've come to call them) always leave me an emotional mess. All they see is how much worse things are getting, how I keep needing new sets of gloves. I won't even let them touch me anymore, too afraid I'll hurt them as well, and I can see how it affects them. It kills me too, really, that I can't get a warm hug from mama anymore, or have papa stroke my cheek, but I just can't take the risk. Inga was only trying to comfort me after all, seeing how upset I was after a particularly heavy Anna-day, and see how that turned out!

It's better for me to be alone. Hide how lonely I am, try not to feel how much it hurts. No one can know. That's important, I've come to realize, not just for Anna, but because once people find out about me they'll start getting scared of my powers, like I am, or call me all the nasty things I call myself in my head. _Freak. Monster. Killer._ I know they're not true, at least not according to mama, whom I confided in once, but I can't help but feel this way. I almost killed my sister, the one person I cared about most in this world, and then I attacked a complete stranger just because she was kind to me and I'm too stupid to know how to control myself. In the best case I'll spend the rest of my life in here, or at least until I'm old enough to leave on my own and find an even more isolated place. The mountains, maybe, nice and remote so I have no risk of harming anyone but myself. I'll see. All I know is that I need to make it until then, and not put anyone else in danger.


	4. Don't Let It Show

**Elsa 18, Anna 15**

Our parents are gone. They left last month, to go to our cousin's wedding in one of those far lands across the sea, and they never returned. I had a bad feeling about this all along, from the moment they told me they were going, but there was nothing I could do. They had to attend, things would be fine here, great-aunt Helga would take care of everything in their absence… And now it seems that absence will never end. Though it's hard for me to tell, the castle seems even emptier than before, the bustling activities I used to enviously observe from my window subdued now, everyone just going through the motions, like I have for years. It's not fair, none of it is. It should have been me on that ship, on my way to exile in the most abandoned place they could find for me. It should have been me to get lost in that storm, to cling to the wreckage and furiously pray I would be saved... Except I'd never ask for that, not after all those pleas I wasted on a cure when I still believed the gods might save me from my predicament, and no matter how hard they prayed, my parents did not get saved either.

I do not go to the funeral. I don't think I could stand it, and even though I barely care who I hurt anymore, I tell them it's safer if I stay behind. I want to, really – I want to leave this room and show my parents I can do this now, that I'm strong enough to pay them my last respects, strong enough to be there for Anna – but I don't think I can. _Oh Anna.._ My heart breaks for her, to know that she must face this all by herself, the last member of our family as far as the world is concerned. It almost becomes too much for me to bear, the realization she's out there mourning them alone, and I've let her down once more.

I thought I'd never be able to again, thought she had stopped knocking because she'd finally accepted I was as lost to her as she is to me. But then, hours after I've heard everyone return from the funeral, there's a knock on my door, and it startles me. Who would come knocking now? The servants simply open the door to quickly shove my food inside, seemingly terrified of me ever since Inga went missing, and _they_ – papa and mama – will never knock on this door again. Before I can get up, I hear her voice, and it is this that finally breaks me. _Elsa,_ she pleads, _I know you're in there, let me in! _But I can't, because the door is locked and I'm trying too hard to stifle my sobs, and even if I could just get up and face her, I never would. It's simply too dangerous, and that thought is confirmed by the time I've managed to stumble towards the door and rest my back against it, desperate to be close to her in the only way I am able to now.

_Do you want to build a snowman?_ The ancient question that used to plague me when I was younger, and her knocks were so frequent I could hardly stand it. The one she's asking me now, her voice broken and full of pain, not even attempting to veil her sadness like I am. She's reaching out to me, making one last attempt at letting me be her sister again, after years of separation, and this time I can't withhold the sob that escapes from my mouth - or the flash of white as everything I've been trying so hard not to feel bursts out, an unstoppable force that reminds me once and for all that I can not be around Anna and never should. As I stare at the wreckage, even my tears momentarily frozen on my cheeks, I decide that this is the last time. No matter how bad things get or how much I want to give up, I will go on. I will conceal both my powers and what little feelings I have, and no one ever will know. From now on I will be strong.


End file.
